


i'm gonna be free and i'm gonna be fine

by hailhydraheyskye



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Art School, Alternate Universe - College/University, Banshee Lydia Martin, F/M, First Meetings, Human Jordan Parrish, Lydia-centric, Mentioned Allison Argent, Minor Stiles Stilinski/Malia Tate, Pack Feels, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-13 20:55:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4536978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hailhydraheyskye/pseuds/hailhydraheyskye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>art college!au.  In high school, she was Lydia Martin the Queen Bee, here, she is Lydia Martin, the queen without bees.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i'm gonna be free and i'm gonna be fine

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is my first in english who isn't my native language, but i have enjoyed to write this. It is inspired by the prompt " Lydia meets Jordan for the first time in the dining hall and he is cramming"

Lydia was worried, all the time and about everything.

Actually, she is worrying about his exams, about what she could have forgotten to Beacon Hills (like her favorite dresses or a just-like-home pillow), about the last text from Malia who said “I’m gonna kill this teacher. No I’m gonna kill all the teachers of this fucking uni “

Thank goodness that Stiles is with her, because Lydia doesn’t have to be worried to read about a creepy massive murder in the newspapers.

She runs to the dining hall; hope that food will decrease her anxiety. No one waits for here, in this place. Her roommate is a pretty girl with a light smile who isn’t Allison. His partner in photography is a nerd guy who isn’t Stiles and the brave boy who helps her when she brings down his stuff isn’t Scott.

She has been alone since almost three months, but nobody knows about it. On the phone, she is joking and giggling and smiling because she is Lydia Martin. Lydia Martin knows how to show to everyone that she is the queen of happiness and joy.

She listens conscientiously all the stories of Kira about Scott and how he is the best thing that happened in his whole life. She listens but doesn’t speak because she has enough screamed loud before, too explained and solved any mysteries in front of her. Far away, they think that she is still the queen of the happiness, but in a quiet way.

The problem is that the queen Lydia Martin belongs to Beacon Hills, this town is her kingdom. But the queen has left his castle.

 

 

So, she is obligated to sit down next to a boy, the dining hall is full. A cute boy she thinks, because even in the darkest times (and it isn’t, Lydia is just a drama girl) she likes all the cute guys around her. She doesn’t know him. She would like to talk to him, but he is like a king behind a wall of book, and more of books, and papers and more of papers.

He is running constantly one hand in his hair. This little gesture makes her crazy, not crazy like him who looks very nervous and worried. Just crazy like a girl who wants that a guy notices her. Right now or never.

— Hi. I’m Lydia Martin. Could I help you ?

— No it’s okay, unless you are a kind of sculpture goodness.

— I’m goodness, but not in sculpture. I am studying in painting and photography.

— So, Lydia Martin, could you close your pretty little mouth for two minutes until I have found how not to be the shame of my promotion.

Lydia is shocked. Firstly, no one has ever said to her to “close her pretty little mouth “even for two minutes. Generally, you ask her to scream, find a body and goodbye Lydia.

Apart from that, he still is the same polite guy who studies to death on some dark sculpture theories. Proof is that he has not asked her to “Shut up!” like other guys could have done (no, she was absolutely not thinking about Jackson Whittemore).

As he has asked her, she says nothing. However, he suddenly raises his head, brows furrowed, and ask with a polite smile:

— Why are you here ?

— Because I’m hungry and next to you, because I don’t have a large group of girly friends and handsome boys to eat with me like in a sect.

— Yes, I’m also against all sorts of hand holding around a bonfire. And, I’m hungry if you want to know, but I must check some points of this theory. But my question why are you here in this art university ?

— Shouldn’t I?

He wasn’t the first person to have doubts about her artistic capacity. Or even about her intelligence. In high school, she was Lydia Martin the Queen Bee, here, she is Lydia Martin, the queen without bees.

— You find me superficial ? You don’t even know me !

— No! no! Absolutely not ! He said blushing.  It’s just that you look like a girl that I could have met with a mathematics or chemistry major, not arts. Why?

She asks herself if it is true. Of course, it is.  She has not galaxies in her eyes and head in the clouds. And, for those who are not big dreamers, they have gold spun at the end of their fingers. Her, she walks just to classrooms or she paints what she sees, what she discovers.

Her eyes, at her, it holds on the world, the real one. Not the other who is in her head, in her dream (they call it imagination, she calls it darkness) because it scary her. Lydia is not a defenseless lady, she kick-ass monsters, but the nightmares in her head, they change her, they made her become one of them.

And they win every time, and she loses every time. And she is free, something like three seconds when she’s out of her own head but, not yet in her bedroom where her roommate sleeps like a baby.

Then her heart beats one time and it is over. Her brain is anew working and Lydia is drowning in his own sheets.  

Lydia stands up immediately. She doesn’t know why she did that because it’s not a critic, it looks like a true question led by natural curiosity and kindness. She goes to take a part of some dishes, some vegetables and chicken, and then she comes back.

She doesn’t know yet what answers. She takes a deep breath and sits down again next to this strange boy with a pen behind one ear and marks of ink on his fingers.

—I don’t know. Art tasted like freedom or happiness. I needed of these things in my life, art was my therapy and I like it, really. I like to paint people’s faces, mostly my dear beloved one these that I have lost.

— You’re not a superficial girl. Just a lost girl.

— What about you ? You look more like a puppy trained  for hard exams and discipline than for sculpting, inspiration and dream.

Okay, she agrees that she has a very utopic vision of the subject. But, here, it is true. His clothes are without folds or dirty marks. His hair is not messy like those of cool guys and he is just so straight, so full of lines and corners and down of his face, a little line as a smile, and upside, two eyes with so much eyelashes.

A sculpture, for a sculptor boy. Not in clay, malleable and ward, but made in Sahara’s stone, scorching and smooth.

— My father and my brother are deputies

— This is explain that, she says laughing.

And, taken advantage of her distraction, the young men pick some food in her plate. She looks daggers to him before to say :

— Okay mister-I must learn all that I have studied during one trimester now- but it’s very difficult to reprimand you when I even don’t know your name.

—Jordan. Jordan Parrish and no, I’m not sorry.

Lydia smiles because she remembers finally how she likes to smile since the death of her best friend Allison, since all this supernatural shit.

When she has left Beacon Hills for San Francisco, she wanted a place where no one was a werewolf or a fox or anything who can cause death. She wanted a place to be a new person, a better one.

Of course, she will always love her pack and Beacon Hills. Their problems are her problems (and she thinks that she must texts back to Malia because this girl is really a cute but dangerous storm) and their joys are hers. However, there had too many problems and no more joys.

She looks again Jordan. She tastes and enjoys his name on her tongue, _Jordan Parrish_. He looks at her back with a smile on his face, a smile deeper in his eyes. She notices that he has green eyes and unconsciously, she searches for a perfect shade of green to paint them.

She stares at them longer than necessary and he sees it, but don’t do any comment. Instead, he moves all of this stuff and put all of this in this bag. Lydia looks at him like if she saw him for the first time.

His view cleared, he embraces the dining hall: all the students who eat and chat with their friends, this peaceful cacophony.

 — One day, Lydia Martin, all of this crappy place of hormonal and youthful people will be as much familiar to you as your birthplace.

Oh, you have no idea, Jordan Parrish. Really, no idea, think the strawberry blonde girl taken her phone in her pocket.

“ Malia Tate to Lydia Martin :  I miss you Lydia. No one can explain math better than you. I HATE MATHS. PS : Stiles say hi. “

“Malia Tate To Lydia Matin: I want deer! Why humans couldn’t eat deer! And why you don’t respond? Have you finally found any friends? I’m not fooled Lydia Martin! TALK TO ME FOR GOD’S SAKE”

—I think you should reply because your phone doesn’t stop to vibrate.

—Yeah, I know, I have seen but I’m not really in the mood of reply.

— Why? Is it a bad news?

— Not really. It’s just one of my friends; she’s so excited and enthusiastic a little bit too much for me to be honest. She has always a lot of things to say, she lives life to the full.

— You say that like it wasn’t your case.

— It isn’t. Not anymore.

— What a pity! So, Lydia Martin, in reward for staying with me until now and because I don’t want to think about apocalypse that waited after me, do you want to take a coffee with me? At Starbuck?

Lydia takes times to think about his proposition. It’s something that she couldn’t have done before: take the time. Not to think because even in her old life she needed to think for everyone, in order that all her friends stay alive or not so dead longer.

Takes times is very difficult when your name is written on a blacklist or when a group of dread doctors wants to do creepy experiments on you. She hadn’t not lot of times to chill and think: “okay. Take a deep breath. You’re alive, you’re safe and you’re fine. So, what you want to do next?”

She wants to go to Starbucks with this cute guy named Jordan Parrish who is a so hard-working person but have spent his time since she is with him to pick in his place like a little thief. It’s a good job for a deputy’s son.

— Let me guess, she says with a little smile, you take a latte, don’t you?

— You’re wrong, he laughs loudly.

— Or something with a lot of caramel, a sweet coffee.

— Medium Americano Black.

She is a banshee, not a fortune-teller, after all.

—Why do you do that? Don’t you have any friends to take in a cool place, a roommate to annoy?

— I have and I will introduce all of them if you want me to, but now, I want to go to Starbuck with you, little lost girl. I don’t want to leave you alone with your phone vibrating and your friends so nice, correct me if I make a mistake, but so far away.

— They aren’t…, she begins.

— Liar.

— Okay, okay, they are.

— So, the question is resolved. C’mon, little girl.

He stands up and waits after her and Lydia, well…she looks at him. Who is this mysterious boy?

And she stands up at her turn and she has no weights and she has the feelings that she can go anywhere and that she can do anything.

And he puts one arm on her shoulders before to lead her outside.

— So, have you seen this beautiful sculpture at the campus’s entrance? Of course that you have but, have you look at this with your artist’s eyes? Or would you like to go see the sea, or maybe a museum. I know one who is the most beautiful of all San Francisco, the others said that he is not but I think that…

 

 

At a time, she stops to listen, however, his voice continue to lull her.

It lulls her on the beach, at Starbuck. It lulls her at Jordan’s favorite museum and at her home when she must come back at Beacon Hills to see her mom. It lulls her in her dorm.

It lulls her anywhere.


End file.
